In My Time of Dying
by PsychoCircus
Summary: This vignette explores Padmé's plight on the birthing table, her thoughts, and is my attempt to resolve the situation that arose in fans' minds from it. A vignette, originally published on another fan fic site about eleven years ago under my Star Wars alias, Jedi Linewalker
**AN** – This is another story I originally published on under my Star Wars alias, Jedi Linewalker. This vignette explores Padmé's plight on the birthing table, her thoughts, and is my attempt to resolve the situation that arose in fans' minds from it

The table in the medical center at Polis Massa is cold, impersonal, artificial…in short, sterile. I can feel the cold radiating through the thin gown that covers my body as I lie in this chamber, preparing to give birth to my child. All around me are lights, the sounds of medical droids toiling and working to help usher my child, Anakin's child, into the light of the galaxy.

On any other day, this would be a moment of rejoicing. This moment would forever be captured in time and space in my memories, which I would cheerfully and possibly tearfully recount to my baby when they were old enough to hear it. But, that is a thing that is never to be. I feel my life slipping, fading fast. My very soul crumples and folds in on itself a little more every passing moment. For everything I've done in my life, for every accomplishment I've made, every victory I've won, my failure overshadows them all…my failure to keep Anakin strong in the face of his fears. My failure to be by his side and help him through things when he needs me the most.

I was unconscious, barely alive, when Obi-Wan put me on the transport and brought me here. I barely heard the whispered words that he spoke to me. Instead, all I heard were his words before Mustafar, in my apartment. He had looked at me with such earnestness in his blue eyes that I had been shocked by his soft voice, "Padmé, I need your help. He's in grave danger."

My breath had caught in my chest and I had difficulty breathing, to be sure. I could feel something dark, something… _evil_ moving about, but not in Obi-Wan. He had told me the Sith ruled the galaxy again, as they had before the Republic. He had told me so much, and yet so little, in such a short space my mind was reeling from it all. I hurriedly asked in reply, "From the Sith?"

Obi-Wan had drawn a deep breath, so unlike the confident and sure Jedi Master I knew. His eyes met mine and I could feel the pain, the anguish burning in his very soul. Whatever it was, he didn't want to tell me, this I knew. "From himself," he finally managed to say, seeming to take all his energy to do so. He hesitated, but his gaze never wavered from mine. "Padmé, Anakin has turned to the Dark Side."

The shock struck me like a seismic charge, exploding in my heart, and actually making me fall back a step. My hand unconsciously went to my chest, over my heart, and my breathing was quickened, labored. I was hurt, rent and torn asunder. My voice finally found freedom and I exclaimed, "You're wrong! How could you even say that?" Yet, even as I spoke the words, even knowing as little about the Force as I knew, I knew Obi-Wan's words were true. I'd seen it, and I'd felt it. I was simply too naïve to admit it, even to myself.

At that moment, I had thought I'd never forgive Obi-Wan for saying such things about my husband, about my Anakin. Yet, with each horror he revealed, I knew more and more that my husband was indeed the dark, uncaring, cold creature that Obi-Wan painted him to be. His voice actually cracked when next he spoke, the emotion behind it barely held in check was heart wrenching, to say the least. "I have seen a security hologram of him killing younglings."

My eyes widened in shock, heartbreak, and devastation. My mind screamed, a long, keening, never ending scream, but my voice exclaimed breathlessly, "Not Anakin! He _couldn't_!" The images that Obi-Wan's words conjured to my mind were vivid and strong, and highly unwelcome. The thought of Anakin killing children was unbearable.

Obi-Wan sighed a heavy sigh, and came closer to me. My eyes must have been wide with pain and shock still, because his voice, and his face, became even more compassionate than they had been. "He was deceived by a lie. We _all_ were," he said softly, his hands making their way to my shoulders for support. "It appears that the Chancellor is behind everything, including the war. Palpatine is the Sith Lord we've been looking for. After the death of Count Dooku, Anakin became his new apprentice."

Casting my eyes downward, I turned from Obi-Wan, my friend, Anakin's Master, and looked away. My voice was cracking, soft, and full of anguish, yet still tinged with foolish hope. "I don't believe you," I murmured softly. "I can't." Didn't he know how he was breaking my heart? Couldn't he see the pain he was causing me?

The Jedi Master I'd considered my friend for the past twelve years didn't move into my field of vision at that point. He didn't have to. His words were solid enough that they gripped my shoulders anew, and held me fast, despite my desire to be anywhere in the galaxy but here, listening to this. "Padmé," he almost whispered and I felt my heart vibrating harder, threatening to explode with grief. "I _must_ find him."

Half turning back to his kind face, a face I'd always viewed with happiness at seeing, the face of a friend, the face of the closest thing Anakin had to a father, I felt a cold shudder run through me as realization struck home, hard and fast. "You're going to kill him, aren't you?" My voice was barely a whisper, it was so soft and thin I'm surprised he even heard me. I was starting to tremble, and it was only getting worse the longer I stood.

Obi-Wan, dear Obi-Wan, said nothing for a long moment, his hesitation damning him more than any words he could possibly ever utter, and in my heart, for that one brief moment, I almost hated him for it. When he finally did speak, his answer was evasive, and almost desperate. "He has become a very great threat," he intoned, the urgency of his tone not lost on my ears, or my heart. Sadly, deep inside, I knew he was right, but I couldn't help him. I couldn't.

I moved to sit on the couch before my legs, now numb with grief, like the rest of my body, gave out underneath me and sent me tumbling to the floor. As I adjusted my seat, I was oblivious to the fact that my pregnant stomach was now revealed unmistakably against the fabric of my dress. I could feel Obi-Wan's eyes on me, assessing, deciding what to say, how to address this obvious fact. I didn't care. "I can't…" I moaned softly, in more pain than I cared to admit, or show.

To his credit, Obi-Wan let a long silence build between us before he said anything. I knew he was looking at me, and making all the necessary calculations and molding clues into cohesive fact. When his voice finally did slip past his lips, it was soft, gentle, and full of compassion. Tears stained my cheeks at his words. "Anakin is the father, isn't he?"

I could not reply. My voice was frozen in my throat, and it constricted even on my breathing, let alone me trying to refute Obi-Wan's words, which would have been pointless in any case. He was right, he knew he was right, and he knew that I knew he was right. Instead, I simply looked away, unable to face my friend, the man I'd relied on so many times in the past for wisdom and compassion.

Silence filled the air with a looming presence, as palpable as the presence that Anakin had displayed lately. It seemed like forever before he finally spoke, and when he did, my ears were shocked to hear him sound almost as if he were on the verge of tears. His sorrow was a solid thing, and it both chilled and warmed my heart at the same time. "I'm so sorry."

When he left after that, not waiting for more words from me, as there were none. What could I say? There was nothing to say. I stared at the necklace Anakin had given me so long ago, and I felt hot tears roll down my cheek and splatter onto the square of bone. Everything had seemed to fade away at that point, and I'd formed a plan to get to him.

Memories of that fateful meeting on Mustafar with Anakin swim through my mind, every bit as painful as they were at that moment. Reality seemed to shift and bend and warp completely out of shape as I watched Anakin's eyes, listened to his words, and knew, in my heart, that Obi-Wan was right. He was right.

I beseeched Anakin with all the love in my heart to turn from his dark path, to come back to the light, back to me, to our child. He wasn't hearing me, wasn't listening. Everything shattered when he saw Obi-Wan on the ramp to my ship. He was convinced I'd brought Obi-Wan there to kill him. He was angry, insane with hate.

I felt my throat constricting even as I pleaded with him, tried to tell him that I hadn't done as he thought, but the man that was my husband was buried deeply under the Sith Lord that was emerging. His power choked me, crushed my throat, and I could feel my life slipping away, all the while hearing him and Obi-Wan exchange words, tense words. I blacked out with pain, and everything went dark.

I awoke here, in the medical center, after a brief moment of consciousness on board my ship, asking about Anakin's safety of poor Obi-Wan, whose sad countenance I couldn't endure and had slipped back off into darkness. Everything was lost at that point. I knew it, I could feel it.

What's more, is I could feel my life slipping away. I got visions, clouded visions of Anakin, damaged, burned beyond recognition, wounded beyond imagining, laying on an operating table. I could feel his pain, hear his screams, but worst of all, I could feel his pure hatred seething across the galaxy. I could feel the heat of his anger permeating my entire being.

The man I loved and knew, Anakin Skywalker, was dying, even as I was. Our fates were bound by an invisible thread, and I knew it. Even as our child fought for its life, I fought for just one more breath to grant it that life, just as somewhere, Anakin fought for one more breath to strike down one more enemy that cost him his universe. Our life force pooled as one, as they should have done in life. How ironic that we only truly joined our spirits in such a way in imminent death.

I could hear the sounds, but not the words, of the medical droids speaking with Bail, Master Yoda, Obi-Wan, and other droids. My mind was clouded, trying desperately to hang on, to keep going, to give the child the strength it needed, and desperately seeking to soothe Anakin's seething hatred and anger, but to no avail. My life was sliding away rapidly, and in my mind, I could hear Anakin's soft laughter, but twisted, evil, and delirious.

I knew he didn't know what he was doing. I know he wasn't trying to kill me, but he was, just the same. My life force spilled out across the galaxy and he absorbed it eagerly, greedily. I was fading, and nothing could stop that now. I could sense the evil that he had become, I could feel the monster that lived within the shell of the man I had loved so wholeheartedly. But, I could feel more. I felt something stirring…a spark, a tiny spark. A tiny spark of good.

The droids spoke of twins, and my heart rejoiced, knowing that Anakin and I were bringing two beautiful babies into the galaxy. Obi-Wan was at my side, speaking softly. He was holding my hand, telling me not to give up. The first child was born, after much suffering and the droid told me it was a boy. "Luke…" I spoke breathlessly, naming the infant that Obi-Wan took from the droid and held for me to see. He was beautiful, handsome, strong, and perfect, like his father had been.

I struggled to touch Luke's tiny forehead, to caress his skin, but I lacked the strength. I was giving my all to push the second child from my womb. I gasped in pain and then I heard the droid announce the second child was a girl. Breathing heavily, I sighed her name softly, "Leia." She was brought into my field of vision and I wept a tear of joy, and of utter sadness. My life force flickered and sputtered inside me, and I knew I didn't have long.

Obi-Wan's wise and utterly sad face was close to mine. I could feel him clenching my hand and squeezing lightly, and his voice was soothing and soft. "Padmé," he pleaded. "You have twins, Padmé, they need you…hang on." I so wished to reply to him, to thank him, to tell him not to grieve, to take care of them, but I couldn't. I was weak, so weak.

"I can't…" I finally managed, at a great force of will. My life was almost gone, almost absorbed completely by my husband, who sucked it greedily and unknowingly from my soul to sustain himself in his anger and hatred. I was fighting with everything I had left, which was slowly dwindling away to nothingness, just to stay here this long.

My fingers wrapped around the japor that Anakin had made for me, the small bone necklace, and stared almost unseeing up at Obi-Wan's kind face. His expression was one of defeat and loss, but also determination. He refused to accept I was going to die, despite the fact that he knew I would. "Save your energy," he pleaded with me, squeezing my hand softly again.

My fight was almost over. I could see the light quickly approaching, the light that transcended all mortal light, the light of the next life calling to me. I could still feel that tiny, tiny spark in Anakin, even now. I could still feel that one last tiny shred of hope that lay in his heart, even now as he became the monster that he was evolving into. I blinked rapidly and choked out, in a broken voice, "Obi-Wan . . . there . . . is good in him. I know there is ... still . . ."

My throat constricted around a final gasp, and the last thing I could see was Obi-Wan's horrified expression as I slipped into the welcoming, comforting arms of death. My body shriveled from the lack of life within it, the force that had fought so long and hard to stay entrenched now gone, and the shell was all that remained. Anakin had destroyed me, finally, and he didn't even know it. I could do nothing but forgive him, because I knew he didn't know, knew he wouldn't, if he had been conscious of himself.

As I transcended the veil between the living and dead, I felt the magnificence of the Force around me. I felt the power and the peace of the all-encompassing energy field, and knew I was once again part of this energy. I heard a gentle voice I'd not heard in twelve years speaking to me, its soft, gravelly tones a welcome and wondrous sound. "Don't worry, Padmé," Qui-Gon Jinn said softly, holding out a hand for me. "Together, we'll watch over Luke and Leia…and guide Anakin back to the light."


End file.
